Discover Top Posts Tagged with #acmpoetry

And if winter feels a little bit longer this year, be prepared for the most marvellous spring.

To the love of my life (I haven't met yet)

Sometimes I hear his voice in my ears, Stay still in its sound any chance I get; Then answer and send out sweet messages and signs To the love of my life, I haven't met yet.

I look up to the stars every night, every moon phase, Even on days when clouds cover the sky; Even when fog erases fields and mountains I can see our shared path in my mind's eye.

I'm reaching for his hands through the space that divides us, Stretching my arms out tired and upset; Too many years I spent yearning for the touch Of the love of my life, who I never met.

I can't wait to hold him, to grow old together, To watch our new life unfold in front of us, To laugh with him, be a shoulder he can cry on; There won't be a topic we could not discuss.

No matter how many detours we are facing, If it wasn't January, it's going to be June; Delay after delay I keep being hopeful: I may not have met him yet, but it'll happen soon.

I feel it, I sense it with all of my being, Our union is closer and closer each dawn; God is refining us for this to be greater Than any other bond we've both ever known.

A destined connection evolving through lifetimes, Two souls everlastingly defeating death; Twin flames burning bright, seeking to be reunited, Deeply in love though we never met.

Astrid C.M.

My life had a purpose, my heart had a calling,

answered when I met you on a cold winter morning;

With courage to spare and much hope to bring,

as marigold, our love blossomed in the spring;

But when summer came and took us apart,

I followed my new quest, yet left you my heart;

Then death took you away on a cursed autumn evening,

now my heart's buried with you, my life has no meaning.

Ironic, don't you think? That, out of them all,

the season that killed us is the one also named "fall".

And time sure stopped there, grief won't let me rest,

no flowers or warmth shall again fill my chest;

So with vengeful remains no holy water could rinse,

I rot in this kingdom, where it's been winter since.

-The fall, out of all/Astrid C.M.

I wander in wonder on earth every day,

admire the fallen leaves paving my way

and sigh at the flowers adorning the grave

of the girl that I was, a blossom of May.

With her petals torn, her stem badly bent,

she pushed through each season with courage and strength;

she fought and grew thorns, never losing her scent,

and, even in drought, she faithfully dreamt.

Dreamt of a new life, prayed for a new start,

while grief slowly and surely lacerated her heart;

and since loneliness threatened to take her apart,

she had no choice but to turn her pain into art.

There I am, the opus she worked on for years,

Fingers stained with ink, cheeks bedewed with tears;

She wandered and, then, crossed the land of her fears

So I could beam in wonder even when the sun disappears.

-Astrid C.M.

They used to tell me "Listen, little Sparrow,

beware of all the hawks you'll find around.

Fly low and pray to God they'll never find you.

If you don't want to die, don't make a sound".

These words I brought with me as I grew up,

I locked them in my head and threw away the key.

And though I know they did it for my highest good,

their advice ended up bringing me to my knees.

For, crawling in the dark, there was another bird;

a bigger hawk, meaner than anybody else.

This monstrous creature came without a warning

and built a nest covered in thorns inside myself.

She whispered vicious phrases in my ears,

pulled my feathers and pecked my skin all day long,

scared me to death every time I looked in the mirror,

forced me to shrink each part she thought was wrong.

I spent so many years feeling defeated,

watched powerless as she devoured my soul.

Till I realized what she was really eating

when I saw her body too turning into bones.

Yet, instead of rejoicing of her downfall,

I chose pity and sat her down to talk.

"I didn't mean no harm, Sparrow" she whimpered,

"I'm just doing what's expected from a hawk".

"There, there, dear hawk" I murmured, drying her tears

"Maybe it's time to unlearn what you've been taught."

That's when I understood that in order to heal

I had to first start feeding my demons with love.

This Sparrow's flying higher than the moon now,

with my brand new wings I'm caressing the stars.

And the hawk that tried so hard to bring me down,

from now on, will fill with glitter all our scars.

Astrid C.M.

After all of these years that I spent asking 'why?', did you really think I'd forgive and forget? Love, no matter how many times you will try, now I'll always be your biggest regret.

Astrid C.M.